Together
by Assassination
Summary: All I can think is: I'm going to be with you forever…even in a Hellish death. I love you. And that's when my world went black… [rated for swearing and slight insanity]


He had an eating disorder, he was anorexic, he had a drug abuse problem, and he puked his food up, refusing to eat anything to make him get…plumpy-er…gain weight. Everyone had problems in this fucked-up place. Of course…there always had to be someone to bust them and send them to _Fucked Minds_…of course, that's the nickname.

I, on the other hand, had a different problem, a completely different problem. _No one_ could fix it, of course, since I _refused_ to talk to the counselors and in Group. Like I'd wanna waste my _time_ with that.

Besides…it was _**your**_ fault that I kept this up. I gave up everything after _**you**_ decided to pull a stupid fucked-up stunt. Yeah, _**you**_ hung _**yourself**_, yep…fuckin' killed _**yourself**_!

Tch, I'm sitting in the usual spot, far away from the messed up people. I damn my doctor who saw _it_ first. Oh, big whoop. She flipped and called my family, saying these specific words: "Your son has been doing self-inflection, why haven't you sent him to therapy?!"

Yeah, like I ever told my father I was doing damage to my own body. If I had…all he would've done was yell at me…he already had to deal with my sisters, and the youngest…I don't even wanna say what happened to her.

All I know is that it fucked up my mind…and badly.

Then _**you**_ go and fuckin' kill _**yourself**_!!

My hands in my lap curl into fists, clenching the fabric tightly. If it weren't for _**you**_…I wouldn't be at Fucked Minds…

"Hey, why don't ya ever talk?"

My eyes gaze dully over to the one who was directing the question towards me. Yeah, as I thought…Grimmji…or something…was talking to me.

"Lay off, Grimmjow," Renji growled, that was almost the easiest name to remember here, he gaze steady on me, "ya don' need t' talk if ya don' wanna, ya know. Better yet, why don' ya leave him alone, Grimm?!" The…I believe he's the one with the eating disorder, though…he doesn't look fat at all to me…or was he the one that pukes up his food? Anyway, he turned to glare at the teal haired man. "Ya ask him tha' damned question every fuckin' Group session!!"

"He needs t' talk!" the man countered.

I actually believed that Grimmjow…finally remembered it…and Renji were my age when I first met them, but they told me their ages. Renji's…if I remember correctly…seventeen and Grimmjow's twenty-six.

"C…come on, y-you two," Hanataro stammered, oh…right, now I remember, he's the one that barfs up his meals, tch…like he ever eats. "D-don't fight."

No one knows, not even barfy himself, that Grimmjow actually likes him. Hell, I was the only one that noticed…a drug abuser, an addict, is in love with a complete anorexic. This would make the front page in the newspaper!

If we ever got any, they're considered 'sharps', for the cutters. Doesn't sound like a bad idea right now, since the memories of _**you**_ were starting to rile me up.

And as usual, and surprisingly on cue, the blue haired muscle-man stops, only settling with glaring at the redhead. Actually I've always wondered why Renji always tied his long hair up high into a pony-tail; it makes his head look like a _pineapple_ for crap's sake!

And as usual, I pull out my MP3, placing the headphones into my ears, cranking Korn's music…thank the heaven's I pumped a ton of music into this little thing before I was thrown into this hellhole and forced to take therapy.

I hated that woman for the rest of my days; hers…are numbered when I get out of here.

I ignore the side conversation; though I can crystal clear hear it through my earphones. "He's refusing therapy…Group doesn't work either," the white haired kid…which everyone calls Whitey or Hitsuguya, mumbled, clearly annoyed that I even bothered coming to this 'gathering' as the higher ups called it. "Even Unohana's giving up on him."

Good, maybe they'll set me free from this shit I even bother to go through.

"For so…you've heard," Grimmjow smirked, I could see it from the corner of my eye, "I hear she's gonna bring out the big guns…shit, who knows what'll happen."

"G-Grimmjow…" the dark haired kid, Hanataro, whimpered. He hated it when people swore. Luckily…I keep mine inside; I hide my voice, so no one else can hear it. "…please don't swear."

A chime goes off, indicating that I head over to Unohana's 'Private Therapy', a.k.a., Private Hell! Yes, I love these visits, 'cause I can't wait for her to tell me it's all over with, I can go home. Thinking about it again, I'm sick and tired of this life…I'm tired of not replying…it's been like this for half a year…and just thinking about how _**you**_ died…its killing me. I blink as a small tear rolls down my cheek. Lifting my right hand up, I wipe it away.

Fine…I'll answer her questions…just so I can get over it, and then end it, end it all.

What a wonderful conclusion. Looking up, I see that I'm already at her office, pushing the door open and taking my usual seat in the dead cow couch, slouching and slinging my arms behind the furniture. Yeah, long-sleeved was an excellent idea right now…otherwise she'd know what I did a few nights back.

"Hey, Unohana," A smirk played across my lips as she stared at me with wide eyes. Sheesh, ya think she'd stop braiding her hair in the front, every time I see it…I'm thinking: You look like a fuckin' man, woman!! "Ask away."

She turned and clicked on the silence button so no one else could hear us, taking her usual seat in the leather chair with a notebook and pen.

"You're gonna take notes?"

"If you don't mind, Mr. Kurosaki," she complied, opening it and uncapping the pen. I shrug, sure shit I _don't_.

"Knock yourself out."

"There has been one question bothering me the first time you came here," Unohana informed, tapping the cap connected to the pen on her lower lip timidly, "_why_ exactly did you start?"

Ah…I remember it so well, like it was only yesterday.

_I stood there, eyes wide as you tightened the knot in the rope that you were going to use to hang yourself. I didn't stop you, no, 'cause I thought you were fuckin' around, like always…yeah, that's what I loved most about you._

"_Ready?" you grinned, looking at me with those brilliant bright eyes. I remember…you told me your parents beat you senseless…every day. Even gangs attacked you, since your hair was as pure as snow, eyes bright like the sun…and your voice was heaven…I loved everything about you…everything._

_I nodded, my hands shoved into my pockets, resisting the urge to beg you not to do it like always. I knew you were expecting it, but not this time, no…not 'this time'… You slipped it around your neck, I knew it was supposed to be a joke; you always do this when you're joking. But…but if…_

"The chair slipped…I couldn't…I couldn't make it in time…" My mouth was moving without my knowing. "He was joking…I knew he was but…why didn't I beg him not to do it? I…I loved him more than anything and he died over a fuckin' joke!!" I slammed my eyes shut, not bothering to take a look at her expression as I threw my head down, clutching at my hair.

_The chair slipped from under your feet, causing you to trip and hang, grabbing at the rope hastily, the gagging sound echoing in my ears as I rushed over, trying to get you free, tears welling up in my eyes._

"_Shiro!" I screamed, the tears spilling out at the corners of my eyes, watching as your eye color dulled, dulled until there was no color left…and you left me…_

"Shiro died! He died because the chair slipped from under his feet…he…left me…all alone," My voice died, a soft…soft whisper, "that's why…I started."

I opened my eyes slowly, looking up at the pale skinned woman, my eyes full of tears which slipped down my cheeks, thick and wet. Unohana reached behind herself and grabbed a tissue, turning around and handing it to me. Grabbing it, I dabbed the tears away from my eyes.

"I loved him, you know?!" My emotions swirled and my control faltered, letting it all out. "My sister was rapped when I was going to go get her from school! My father has to do a stay-home job just to keep the family together! My mother died in an accident when I was nine…I…I fuckin' lost it when Shiro died!" I began tearing the tissue up…into tiny pieces, and then tore the tiny pieces into more pieces. Sobbing and my face burning, the tears stinging my eyes. "I…my life just…vanished. I began cuttin' myself just to bring back some…I dunno, feel?"

"I see…" Her voice was gentle, almost like a mother's…my mother's. She reached a hand out and wiped the tears away from my face gently. "I feel your pain, Ichigo…I lost my loved one as well, but you shouldn't hurt yourself…just to erase the horrible memories, keep the good ones close to heart."

"Yeah…" I mumbled, standing up and gazing at the clock. It was almost time… "See you." With that I walked out, and then broke into a sprint once the door shut behind me, my feet appearing then disappearing in a pattern. I couldn't think, I didn't think, all I did was run, run towards my room, wanting release.

My throat muscles tightened and a chocked whimper slipped past my lips as I pushed the door to my room open. Shutting it and trailing over to my bed, bending down and reaching under the mattress, feeling around for my blade. Coiling my fingers around it a few seconds later, I stood, watching as the tears that clung to my lashes fell to the ground. Watching it for a few seconds, I turned, plopping my bottom onto the mattress, hoisting my left wrist up.

I hover the object over a vein, slowly lift my head to watch the ceiling as I slashed violently at the flesh, a small dot of blood surfacing, then blooming into a lovely puddle of red as the world twisted, turned, and warped as I let my eyes slide shut, the world's sounds dying away as a smile crept across my lips.

All I can think is: I'm going to be with you forever…even in a Hellish death. I love you.

And that's when my world went black…

* * *

**I was feeling a little depressed while I was reading **cut **by **Patrica McCormick **for what seemed like the hundredth time and listening to depressing music (on purpose, mind you) made me feel like well…you know, and so…I decided to make this…yes, Ichigo killed himself, and yes, just to be with Shiro. A little…emoish…I guess, but this is what I felt I should type. Please review, but nothing mean, for example: **Why the hell would you make something like this?!**, okay?**


End file.
